


Don't Want to Be Right

by shnuffeluv



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel/Demon Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Lazy Mornings, Love, M/M, One Shot, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 22:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/shnuffeluv
Summary: Remy is an emo nightmare...I mean an angel. Emile is a pastel ray of sunshine...I mean a demon. Neither of their bosses can know they're together.Somehow, they make it work.





	Don't Want to Be Right

Emile nuzzled into Remy’s back as Remy started to stir that morning. “Mm. Stay in bed with me, sweetheart, just for half an hour,” he mumbled.

Remy’s sigh made Emile’s heart sink. “You know I can’t, my love. If my friends come looking for me and find me with a demon, they’ll smite us both.”

Emile opened his baby blue eyes and gazed into the deep, rich brown of Remy’s. “Half an hour won’t kill us,” Emile pleaded.

“Half an hour can and will, if we’re not careful,” Remy said, sitting up in bed.

Emile pouted, but took the time to observe the tattoos littering Remy’s body, including the tattoo wings right between his shoulder blades, that Emile knew would summon angel wings at a moment’s notice. Remy turned to him and smirked. “It’s like you’ve never seen me shirtless before,” he teased.

“It’s always a sight to behold,” Emile said with a smirk.

Remy scoffed and got out of bed, muttering, “You demons are all the same.”

“Hey! Don’t lump me in with the incubi and succubi! They would be  _ much _ more forthright about what they liked, and they would take what they wanted until they grew bored of you,” Emile exclaimed. “I’m not like that.”

Remy turned and his gaze softened as he looked at Emile. “I know you’re not,” he said softly. “That’s why I love you.”

“Taking a shower?” Emile asked as Remy gathered up the clothes scattered on the floor and tossed them in the hamper.

“Yup,” Remy said.

Emile nodded, and as Remy grabbed an MCR T-shirt and his favorite skinny jeans to change into once he was out of the shower, Emile left the room quietly.

The neighbors all knew they lived together, of course. It was kind of hard to ignore the two men coming and going, giving each other warm hugs and lingering touches as they each went off to work that day. But the higher-ups and lower-downs didn’t know that Emile and Remy were a thing. Remy thought it was safer that way, and Emile didn’t want his bosses pressuring Emile to persuade Remy to their side.

Emile went into the kitchen, still wearing nothing but some pastel pink briefs, and pulled out the things he needed for a good old-fashioned breakfast. As he fired up the stove, the shower turned on in their apartment, and Emile smiled softly as his thoughts turned to Remy. His boyfriend was so sweet, so loving...so  _ angelic _ that he couldn’t help but fall in love.

Admittedly, Emile becoming a demon was quite a bit of an accident. He got involved with the wrong people, did the wrong things to save them, and he fell. He was always fond of humanity, or at least particular humans. And when Heaven found out, well, they weren’t happy.

Remy, on the other hand, wasn’t the kind who enjoyed humanity by and large. He liked a select few people who he felt “got” him; which mostly meant listening to  _ My Chemical Romance _ and dressing like being emo was still cool. His bangs alone were a testament to how much he related to that human movement. Emile preferred the softer things in life: children’s cartoons and movies, fairy tales and fantasy, and pastels. Lots and lots of pastels. Which worked, because Emile was very clearly a spring, thank-you-very-much.

The shower stopped and a minute later Remy came out, sniffing the air. “Smells good,” he mumbled.

Emile grinned. “I’m glad!” he chirped. He turned on the coffee pot. “And your coffee should be ready by the time I’m dressed!”

He turned the stove off, gave two plates a stack of three pancakes each, and set them on the kitchen table before moving to the bedroom again. He had to decide what to wear, of course. If he was going to be going to his job of being a therapist, he had to look the part!

Grabbing a pastel blue button up and a sweater vest which had very soft pink and green in an argyle pattern all over it, he threw those on quickly before settling on a rather boring pair of khaki pants. He wished he could wear his leggings, but he had been told before by the other therapists in the office that it was “unprofessional” and “off-putting” to some of the patients. He grabbed some galaxy socks to top the look off, and came back out to the kitchen to find Remy had already covered Emile’s pancakes in Nutella and whipped cream. “This is why I love you,” he said. “You always know exactly what I like.”

Remy gave Emile a half-smile, which he would take as a victory. They ate breakfast in amiable silence, put their dishes in the sink, and then went to the door. Remy pulled on his leather jacket with a smile, and pulled on his sneakers, saying, “Good luck corrupting people to the dark side in therapy.”

Emile pulled on his loafers and hummed, “Hope you get to work some miracles in the coffee shop.”

They walked out of the apartment complex together, and Remy looked around quickly before placing a soft peck on Emile’s cheek. Emile cupped Remy’s chin before he could move away and kissed him softly on the lips. The gesture was soft and tender, and gave Remy the chance to pull away, but Remy did no such thing. It burned to kiss an angel; a demon wasn’t really supposed to touch anything “holy,” but some things were worth the pain. And Remy definitely was one of those things.

He pulled apart and gave Remy a soft smile. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” Remy mumbled, giving Emile a wave as he stepped into his car and made his way to the coffee shop where he was a barista.

Emile got in his own car and gave a content sigh. Yeah, maybe what he and Remy had was wrong. But if it was...well. He didn’t want to be right.

**Author's Note:**

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